


Dusk is Coming

by ekreider



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya Stark spinoff, Arya comes back, I'm going to fix it, the ending was awful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-03-14 15:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekreider/pseuds/ekreider
Summary: “They say you are not our sister, so tell them,” Sansa looked levelly at the woman before her, “Remind them of who you are.” Arya turned her back to her siblings to address the crowd, the thrones regally framing her as she spoke.“I am the daughter of Catelyn and Eddard Stark.” Arya began, putting her hands behind her back.“I have travelled to the West to see what was there and all I found was a country ready to strike. They come bearing weapons the likes of which we have never seen and they come with skilled warriors the likes of which we can never hope to defeat.”Arya again searched for the blue eyes she could feel in the crowd, “For too long, I have forgotten the words of my House and the warnings of my father. I forgot that the lone wolf dies while the pack survives, but in this moment, our greatest challenge, I have come to bring my pack back together. For too long we’ve been separated, to the capital, to the North, to the Wall, but no more.“My name is Arya Stark, Hero of Winterfell, Bringer of Dawn, Princess of Westeros, Princess of the North, and Sailor of the Western Sea,” she turned to shoot a determined smirk to her siblings, “And I have come home.”





	1. Chapter 1

Ch 1  
“Hey! Little lady, you can’t leave that here!”  
Arya Stark turned around and her crew parted for her to see the man who pointed up at her ship as it sat low in the water. Arya studied the man, “And why not?”  
“Because…because…. This is the Crossing! We can’t have girls leaving war ships around!” the man fumbled through his explanation, not really knowing the reason they had been told not to let people stop their ships there.  
“You don’t seem so sure about that, do you now?” Arya’s crew laughed behind her, “Tell me, who rules the Twins now that House Frey is gone?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Who is your Lord and Lady?”  
“Lady and Lord Barr.”  
Arya squinted at the man, “And who is Lord Barr?”  
“What?”  
“Are you deaf or stupid?” the crew laughed at their mistress’ impatience.  
The man looked outraged, “Neither!”  
“Then who is Lord Barr?” The man looked at her as if she were mad, “I’ve never heard of a Lord Barr, so where did he come from?”  
“He was a stable boy before House Frey was murdered by the Stark bitch.”  
“I see. I would like to talk to your Lord and Lady.” She then proceeded to walk past the man, who looked after her with his mouth hanging open.  
“Now, wait just one minute! Who do you think you are?”  
Arya smiled at him, “I’m the Stark bitch.”

(*&*)

King Bran the Broken knew it the moment his sister stepped onto Westeros. The disconnection he had felt the moment she left for the West seemed to disappear entirely, and Bran could easily feel his sister. She felt different than before. Sadder, tougher, but at the same time more vulnerable, more open, more…healed. Bran could feel that her soul had been broken into pieces on the floor but he could also feel the hands reaching to pick them back up. He took as deep breath to shake off the feeling of immense grief that blanketed the woman before looking at Tyrion, “I need you to arrange something for me.”  
Tyrion did not look up from his paper and took a sip from his goblet, “And what am I arranging?”  
“I need all the lords to be at the Twins before the month is out.”  
Now Tyrion looked up, “Forgive me, Your Grace, but why do we need every Lord at the Twins?”  
“My sister has had a long journey. We should all welcome her.”  
Tyrion looked mystified, “Your sister? The queen? What?”  
But Bran was rolling away, “When the raven comes, tell her we accept the invitation. We leave tomorrow.”

(*&*)

Sansa brushed a piece of hair before continuing with the papers on her desk. Like most things in her job, this had to be done with the utmost secrecy and the utmost care, and she would not let the people of the North down. The door to her office opened, as a knight stepped into the room.  
“My Queen, I bring news from Westeros.”  
“What is it now?” Queen Sansa asked, dropping her papers into a drawer from where she sat at her large oak desk.  
“A letter from the Lord of the Riverlands. Apparently, someone has convinced the lord that she is your sister. This imposter wants a meeting with you and King Bran to discuss…what was it?” He scanned the letter, “Ah, yes, ‘matters of the utmost importance’.”  
Sansa looked at the knight quizzically, “And why does the lord think the woman is my sister?”  
“Apparently, the woman has great skill with a blade and she keeps calling people stupid and she has a ship—”  
“Stupid? She calls people stupid?”  
“Yes, Your Grace.”  
Sansa’s face became a blank canvas, the only sign of her thinking was the way she twirled her quill in her hand, “She’s been gone for three years. I can’t believe…Where does she want the meeting?”  
“At the Twins, Your Grace.”  
“Tell her we accept and make preparations.” Sansa started for the door.  
“Your Grace!” Sansa turned back towards her knight. He shifted from foot to foot, “Forgive me, Your Grace. But…do you really think it’s her?”  
Sansa smiled in a way that the knight had not seen in a while, “I know it’s her. Send the raven.” 

(*&*)

“Do you think it wise for me to be here?” asked the man as he came to stand by Arya, where she leaned of the railing of the bridge, looking at the river. The man reached a good foot over her head, his midnight black skin marking him as a foreigner. His dark hair, dark eyes, and large shoulders did not help much.  
“I want you here with me,” was Arya's only reply.  
“Aye, but wanting me here and thinking it’s wise are two different things, aren’t they, little bird?”  
Arya looked at him for a minute before turning back to the water, “Do you see over there?” Arya nodded towards one shore, “That’s Westeros. And over there,” she nodded to the other shore, “Is the North. Right now, you’re straddling two countries.”  
The man looked at each side of the river.  
But Arya was not done, “One country belongs to my brother and the other to my sister. Before I left, they promised I could live peacefully in both. So, I am a woman with two strong countries at my back. If anyone can protect you, it’s me.”  
The man turned towards Arya, his hand smoothing her hair, “Love, you’re already fighting so many battles. Please don’t fight one over me.”  
She turned towards him, looking up with pleading eyes, “I need you here with me. You know that. I can’t—”  
She tried to turn away from him, her eyes filling with tears, but he caught her hands, twisting her back to face him and burying her head into his chest. HIs arms wrapped tightly around her skinny waist and his large body seemed to be trying to hide her from any of the thoughts running through her head. “Don’t. Please, don’t. I’ll stay. I'll be by your side. Whatever you need.”  
“I need all of you." She thought back to the crew sleeping in a room in the Eastern tower. They had all been given rooms, but they had all chosen to curl up together in Arya's room, not wanting to be separated after what they had been through together.  
Arya looked up at foreigner, “We have to warn them.”  
“I know.”  
“We need to prepare them.”  
“I know.”  
“They’ll all die if we don’t.”  
“I know, love.” He tightened his grip on her, “I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2  
“A whole host of them are coming in now,” the dark man said, coming up the bridge to find her in her usual spot.  
“And my sister?” Arya turned towards him.  
“She’s already asked to see you.”  
Arya turned towards him, her eyes slowly filling with fear, “I don’t—I’m not sure…. What happens if…. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”  
The man looked confused, “What? We spent four months on a boat with you talking about how you had to see her, how she was part of your pack and we had to see her as quickly as possible.”  
“Yes, but….”  
The man’s eyes filled with understanding, “You don’t think she’ll be able to recognize you. I mean physically yes, but you’ve changed so much…. She’ll know her own sister when she sees her.”  
“The people we’ve met so far haven’t recognized me. The lady…she was there when I killed House Frey. She was who I left to tell everyone that Winter came for House Frey. I killed her whole family, and she didn’t recognize me.”  
“Well, you were wearing another face at the time.”  
“Not then. I took it off before I told her. She was the first to know what the new Arya Stark was like, and when we introduced ourselves it took her much longer to see I was who I said I was.”  
“Your sister is not the Lady of the Riverlands, and she is used to letting go of her sister and having another sister return.” The man cupped the Stark sister’s face in his hands, “Arya, it would disturb me more if she did recognize you as you are now. You have grown so much, changed so much. You’ve lived a thousand lives since she last saw you. This hesitancy you feel now, it’s a good thing. It means you’ve changed for the better.”  
Arya shifted, “You’ll be with me? When we meet again?” The thought of going to her sister without her crew, her pack, seemed unthinkable. He crew had done everything together for the last three years, and none of them had wanted to be separated. When they had arrived at the Twins, they had all been given separate rooms. They had joked about not having to smell each other’s stench or heard Menden snore again, but, by the end of the night, Arya had all twelve of them in her bed with her. She wanted nothing more than for Sansa to get to know her crew and wanted nothing more than someone watching her back when they met again.  
The man shook his head, “I’ll be outside, but this is something you must do alone. You must return to her the same way you left.  
He laughed, “If we were all there,” he shook his head, “I’ve never seen a queen pee all over herself, but we would probably cross that off the bucket list.”  
Arya laughed, really laughed.  
The man enveloped her in his arms, “Your pack will always be behind you, but your sister deserves to see you first without your whole crew following you like lost pups.”

(*&*)

They met in an empty chamber room, Sansa in a long, flowing silver gown and Arya still in her sailing outfit. As the doors shut behind Arya, both the sisters stayed on their separate sides of the room.  
Sansa studied her sister from head to toe, as if to see if Arya was who she said.  
“Same height, same build. Same mouth. Same color hair, although I’m not used to seeing it down. Your eyes though. They’re lighter, like they’ve got some blue in them now.”  
“They tend to do that now.” was all Arya said.  
“Same voice, too.”  
Arya nodded, “You look like a queen, and you cut your hair.”  
Sansa’s hand went to where her hair ended just past her shoulders, “It got bothersome to deal with on top of everything else.”  
“It looks good.”  
Sansa stayed very still before she rushed to her sister and was very surprised when Arya rushed to her as well. They enveloped each other into their arms, each digging their heads in each other’s neck.  
“They told you that you kept calling people stupid and I just… I knew. I had a sudden vision of you at seven throwing your sewing at me and telling me I was stupid. Then another one when you came back to Winterfell and I got too close to the archery range.”  
“I yelled at you for a solid five minutes,” Arya shook her head, releasing her sister, “I think half the words that came out of my mouth was just—”  
“Stupid,” they said at the same time.  
“it has always been your favorite insult,” Sansa said, nodding with a smile. She pushed a strand of hair behind Arya’s ear, “Why have you come back? You were only gone for three years, I don’t understand.”  
“I came back to warn you.”  
“Warn us about what?”  
“Sansa, I—” the doors opened.  
The dark man looked at Arya, “They’re ready, Arya. And getting antsy.”  
“Okay,” Arya grabbed her sister’s hands, “Just tell me that you will trust me. Tell me that you will believe me.”  
Sansa searched her sister’s face, “You’re the only person I trust entirely.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

The Twins had probably never accommodated this many people since its inception, and yet, the floors still held the many people waiting in the Great Hall. Servants had taken the tables out and had put two thrones in the place of its high table. The lords and ladies of both the North and Westeros gathered and mingled, though the division between the two was quite distinct.   
After Sansa and Bran were welcomed to the Hall and seated, it was this divide between the two countries that Arya walked through, her hands behind her back.  
Slowly, people seemed to notice the woman standing in the middle of the room and the crew that stood at the door, silently watching their mistress. They quieted and backed away from the woman, as if she had such an intense air that they could not stand to be near her.   
Lord Tyrion looked at Bran for a second before clearing his throat, “Announcing Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, the Hero of Winterfell!”  
Lords and ladies alike shifted in their places, mumblings coming up through the air before a voice broke out, “How do we know that’s Arya Stark? How do we know that woman is not an imposter?”  
Arya looked for the source of the voice, but she could not find it.  
Sans smiled at Arya, “You see, dear sister, I have heard rumors and even been advised not to come here. They say that Arya Stark fell off the edge of the Earth years ago, or that if she ever found something in the West it would have taken her more than three years to get there and back. They say you are an imposter and the proof of that is this meeting. They say that Arya Stark would never call for such a meeting, would never want this much attention.”  
Arya’s face twisted, “Well, no one said I wanted to have this meeting.”  
Queen Sansa and King Bran sat side by side, staring at the small woman who claimed to be their sister.  
“They say you are not our sister, so tell them,” Sansa looked levelly at the woman before her, “Remind them of who you are.”  
Arya Stark turned, searching the lords and ladies of Westeros and The North, before catching bright blue eyes. She turned her back to the thrones to address the crowd, the thrones regally framing her as she spoke.  
“I am the daughter of Catelyn and Eddard Stark.” Arya began, putting her hands behind her back. “I am the sister of Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, and Jon Snow. I was raised in Winterfell as the she-wolf of the North. I left with my father and sister for King’s Landing when I was just a little girl. When I escaped King’s Landing, I had already witnessed the imprisonment of my sister, and the death of my father.”  
She stopped for a second, looking up at the sky, “After that, I swore I would get my revenge on the people who had caused my loved one’s pain. I travelled with a group of friends to try to get to the Night’s Watch, but we never made it. I was captured by the Hound, who got me as far as this very place…where I witnessed the slaughter of my mother, my brother, and his pregnant wife. I watched them attach his direwolf’s head to his body, and I again swore that I would get my revenge.”   
The Hall was silent. No one seemed to move or breathe.   
“I escaped the Hound and travelled to Braavos. There, I became a Faceless Man. I was trained to be a deadly killer and assassin, and I spent a good amount of time blind to prove it. But they tried to take away who I was, so I escaped the Faceless Man. I came back and I made sure that Westeros knew that any pain caused to my family would be paid back.”  
She paused, looking of the Lady of the Riverland’s eyes, “I killed the men of House Frey in this very room. I reminded them that wolves always run with a pack, and that when one wolf is attacked, they all bite back. I made sure that they knew that, while we were limping and bleeding, House Stark was still alive. And it was.  
“After they were dead, I heard whispers of my family. Family members that were still alive and, like me, had just wanted to go home. So, I did just that. I went home, to Winterfell and there I fought Whitewalkers in the Battle of Winterfell. It was me who slayed the Night King. It was me who stabbed that bastard through the heart and brought the dawn. After the war, I sailed West.”  
She looked up at the ceiling once more, “That’s where things get complicated.”  
Sansa’s voice was as soft as a whisper, “Go on.”  
“I found a country at dusk and watched as people seemed to crawl out of the setting sun towards our boat. They brought me and my crew into their world, a world full of curiosity and creation. A culture of deep devotion and openness where their people thrived. It had inventions and skills that I had never thought possible. Some of these inventions, however, were weapons of war. Weapons that shoot metal balls and destroy everything in their path. A shield would not work against these weapons, and you couldn’t get close enough to use a sword. Their invention made bows and arrows seem barbaric.  
“It was those weapons that made me look deeper and find the country’s crimes.”  
Arya looked around at the lords and ladies, “You see, the world is much bigger than we thought. Not only was there this new country, but others. Dusk, with its new inventions, has taken over other countries, many more than you could ever think possible. They tear these countries apart in their moments of weakness. They take everything that the country is and rips it to shreds. They take what they want and leave the country in utter devastation. And now they rule over those once proud nations with little remorse for what they did.   
“And we are next.”  
Arya raised her voice, “Do you see why I called this meeting now?”   
She turned to make sure that she had everyone’s attention, “I have travelled to the West to see what was there and all I found was a country ready to strike. They come bearing weapons the likes of which we have never seen, and they come with skilled warriors the likes of which we can never hope to defeat.”   
Arya looked around, “I have fought for as long as I can remember, but somewhere along the way I forgot that the reason I fought was for my family. I fought for our right to be together, to be happy, and I left that very same family torn apart. Torn apart by country and crime.”  
She turned towards her family, “We forgot. We forgot that it was family first! Family first and then duty and honor. We forgot. We forgot who our pack was and who we belong to. We forgot that we are a strong house, and we did not know. We did not know that we are the only house strong enough to get our countries through this war, and that divided there is no hope for our nations.   
“Westeros or the North will die alone if the other does not defend it. We must be one pack, we must bite back when one wolf goes down. Our great countries will come out of this war limping, make no mistake, but if we defend each other the way we were always taught, we will come out of it alive.”  
Arya again searched for those blue eyes, “For too long, I have forgotten the words of my House and the warnings of my father. I forgot that the lone wolf dies while the pack survives, but in this moment, our greatest challenge, I have come to bring my pack back together. For too long we’ve been separated, to the capital, to the North, to the Wall, but no more.  
“My name is Arya Stark, Hero of Winterfell, Bringer of Dawn, Princess of Westeros, Princess of the North, and Sailor of the Western Sea,” she turned to shoot a determined smirk to her siblings, “And I have come home.”  
A cheer rang through the hall and Arya looked behind her to find the dark man. He smiled proudly at her, nodding to her with immense respect and pride in his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

“I’m starting to think you aren’t the sister that left us,” Bran quietly declared, sending the Great Hall into silence.  
“Bran,” Sansa said, confused.  
Arya’s heart stopped, her eyes shooting back to the dark man even as her brother continued to study her.  
Bran looked at Sansa, “Have you ever known our Arya to make a speech like that? An eloquent, long speech? When she left, there was no way she could have made a speech like that. The Arya we knew was all one liners and sarcastic comments.” He turned back to his sister as she sat in the middle of two great countries, “There’s more to your story, isn’t there?” Bran asked. He held out his hand to his big sister, “Will you let me see?”  
Arya looked at his hand, “Let you see?”  
“I was not able to see what happened to you. You were always closed off to me. I could always get a flicker before you left, but when you set sail…nothing. Not even the knowledge that you were safe.”  
“And how did that feel, dear brother, to be just like everyone else?” Sansa asked quietly.   
“I’d rather it be my way,” Bran said, a small smile on his face.  
Arya’s eyes lifted from his hand to his eyes, “You’ll see everything?”  
“Everything.” Bran was never one to misconstrue facts. “Don’t you trust me entirely?”  
Sansa and Arya looked at each other, Sansa’s words echoing from before. Bran had watched them, and he was letting them know.  
Then, there was only one thing she could do. She could not let Bran think that she favored the North and she could not let Sansa think that she favored Westeros. She crossed the chamber, her hand already outstretched to take her brother’s.   
Arya felt nothing when her hand connected with his, but she watched as her brother threw back his head and his eyes became milky white. She knew then that he was feeling everything. Everything she had the last three years.  
“Bran?” her brother’s reaction made her panic, her voice turning a higher pitch, and she tried to take her hand out of his. She was stopped by his vice-like grip. “Bran?”  
“It’s alright,” Lord Tyrion said from beside the throne, “He does this.”  
When Bran’s eyes finally saw her, his grip relaxed. “I’m sorry for your loss, Arya.” He patted her hand that he still held in his own, “There was nothing you could have done.” Arya’s hand snapped out of his as the dark man stepped out of the crowd.  
“Enough,” he said as Arya rushed towards him. He cupped her face to look into her eyes before his hand slipped down to hold hers.  
“Ser Desso,” Bran said, smiling towards the man, “Welcome. Thank you for taking care of our sister.”  
The Hall was silent for a second, before Sansa broke the silence, “I’m sorry, but what is going on? Who is he?”  
Bran was the one to answer, “Ser Desso is Arya’s Devoted…well, kind of. A Devoted is someone who literally devotes their life to taking care of one person and the causes they fight for. The closest thing we have to it would be the Kingsguard. Even if the Devotee dies, the Devoted continues the fight as their loved one would have wanted. In return, the Devotee makes sure that if they meet an untimely death the Devoted would be taken care of. There’s more to it than a cultural promise like our Knights vow. The relationship…” he looked at Sansa, “It’s kind of like our direwolves. It’s hard to explain.” He lowered his voice, “It’s why her eyes are different.”  
“The blue in them?”  
“Yes. It comes from the blue in her Devoted’s eyes.”  
Sansa looked at Desso as he and Arya watched the exchange. Sansa shook her head, “He doesn’t have blue eyes.”  
“Because he’s not my Devoted,” Arya said, her voice soft. “You can only be Devoted to one person, but your Devotee can be Devoted to another person. Desso is Devoted to Adam, and Adam is Devoted to me.”  
“Where is Adam?” Sansa asked, searching the crew that waited in the back of the room.  
Arya shook her head, her voice sounding like it was breaking in half, “We don’t know.”  
“Our sister lost him before she sailed off. A plan went wrong and they had to run. Adam was captured, but they had to sail without him.” Bran explained, his eyes sad as he gazed at his big sister. Arya refused to look back.   
Sansa too studied the woman that stared at the ground, her hand gripping tightly to the larger, darker hand. It seemed like Desso was keeping her sister together, like he was the only thing anchoring her to life, but just barely. Just barely.   
While Bran had the power to see what their sister had done, Sansa was probably the only one to see how it had affected her. Arya was changed. For better or worse, the hard, independent woman that had sailed away from Westeros had not returned. Sansa felt a stroke of grief for the woman that had helped her take down Littlefinger, for the woman who had given her the courage to fight in the crypts and the courage to defend her kingdom. But looking at her now, with her hair down and falling to her waist, watching the floor as if it might fall out from under her… Arya looked like the little girl that had run through the castle trying to catch cats, the little girl who had wanted nothing more than to live the way that she wanted to. Suddenly, the feeling that struck Sansa was different, and she remembered a long time ago what her father had told her about protecting her sister.   
“We’re done here today,” Sansa’s voice held no room for argument. “You and your crew are most welcome to join me and my small council, Arya. We will meet in an hour. We have much to discuss.” She turned to her brother.  
“We’ll be there,” Bran answered the question that Sansa had not needed to ask.  
“Everyone that we need?” Sansa glanced at Arya before returning her gaze to Bran.  
“Everyone, you meddlesome creature.”  
Sansa smiled before looking out at the crowd, “You are all dismissed.”  
She stood and walked to her sister. She took her sister’s other hand, the one that Desso wasn’t still grasping in a death grip, “It’s time for you to tell us all your story.”

(*&*)

Sansa pulled her little sister out of the Great Hall and into a small alcove where they would not be disturbed. Just in case, she had politely asked Desso to make sure no one came to bother them. Desso glanced at Arya before smiling at the red head. He bowed and left, and Sansa had a creeping feeling that Desso knew more about what was happening than he led on.  
Arya shuffled to a nearby window, and still refused to look at her sister.  
“I won’t pretend to know what is going on. I won’t pretend that I like being left out of the loop, while you and Bran know everything that is going on. These past three years, I have had to work hard to stay informed through spies and informants. My court pays big money to make sure that we know half of what Bran can know with a single thought. I don’t like that. Especially now when my country’s future may depend on information that he got just by holding your hand. However, I want you to know that you can tell me when you’re ready. I want you to know that information that is vital to my kingdom’s security should be shared to the best of your ability, either by you or a member of your crew if that would be easier, but the rest of it…you can tell me in your own time.”  
Arya looked at her through a curtain of hair, her big eyes wide with thanks. All she could do was nod and reach for her sister.   
Sansa rushed towards her sister, enveloping her in a hug that covered Arya’s small body, shielding her little sister from the world. Arya buried her head in Sansa’s shoulder, her hand coming up to cover a sob that was loud enough to echo down the hall. Sansa’s heart shattered when she heard it, thinking back to the sister that had arrived at Winterfell three years ago, the one that showed no emotion but stubborn determination. How different that woman was to the one that seemed to want nothing more than to crawl into her family’s arms and never leave.  
Still, Sansa knew exactly who her tears were for, and knew they weren’t just for her Devoted across an ocean, “Arya. You wouldn’t have left any member of your pack if it wasn’t completely necessary.” Her eyes closed as she gripped her sister even tighter, “I know that.”  
Arya’s sob rang out again and Sansa’s hand smoothed her hair, “I know. I know. I understand.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of these chapters are world and character building, but don't worry, this all leads up to something. And don't worry about Arya and Gendry. Seriously, don't worry.

Ch. 5

The small council room was still just as crowded as the Great Hall, although the number of lords and ladies had been cut by at least three fourths. Again, the two countries split off to each side, sitting around a large round table, facing each other like they could not turn their backs on the other nation.  
When Sansa came in, they all stood and Bran smiled at the queen and Arya, who walked a step behind her big sister. Arya’s eyes immediately went to her crew. They stood trying to make it look like they were born to be here, but they shifted uncomfortably. Most of her crew could not read anything but a map, and they didn’t speak in the same way that the lords and ladies in the room did. Arya smiled comfortingly at them, trying to tell them that she was thankful they were here, trying to tell them that, as her pack, they belonged in this room.  
Sansa sat down gracefully, and chairs scraped as the lords and ladies moved to sit down. “You sit when all of the royal family has sat.”  
Almost everyone in the room was confused until Desso poked Arya in the back and whispered, “That’s you, love.”  
“Oh!” Desso pulled out the chair beside Sansa and Arya sat with about half as much grace as her sister did. She smiled awkwardly as the others in the room sat down. She was not used to this treatment. She probably never would be.   
Still, everyone looked at her expectantly, and she schooled her face, “Right. Well, I suppose we should get down to the basics—"  
The doors opened and Lord Gendry Baratheon walked in. Arya’s voice died in her throat.  
“They said you wanted to see me, Your Grace?” Lord Baratheon folded his hands behind him.  
“Yes, Lord Baratheon,” Bran said, before leaning over Sansa to look at Arya, “I reckoned he should be here. You know. All things considering.”  
Arya blinked at him, “Yes. Yes, of course.”  
Sansa’s hand went to pat Bran’s as she smiled at the lord, “Please sit, Lord Baratheon.”  
Arya saw Menden smile the same way he did when she caught him swinging drunk from the rope ladders of the ship, “Yes, m’lord.” He kicked out the only chair that was empty, which happened to be right beside him, “Come sit by me, m’lord. We’ll have so much fun, all of us ex-commoners, with all of these kings and queens, m’lord.”  
If they were anywhere else, Arya might have reprimanded Menden, might have smacked him on the ear, but not here. She would not belittle her crew in front of men and women who would do nothing but make them feel unwelcome.  
Still, it seemed that Gendry did not need any help to deal with the silly crewman that was still smiling up at him. Gendry’s voice was stern, “I am the Lord of Storm’s End. I may be an ex-commoner, as you say, but I belong at this table just as much as the other lords and ladies. I expect you to respect that.”  
Menden sent a shocked look at Arya, who sent an expectant, almost motherly, glare back. Menden’s arms crossed and he slunk back in his chair like a child who had been dragged away from his fun, “My apologies, m’lord.”  
Gendry sat down, looking as if he was trying not to smile at the man and his behavior.   
Sansa looked at Arya, “Now that we’re all settled: basics.”  
“Right.” Arya leaned forward, folding her arms on the table in leaning on them, “As far as I can tell, it will probably take a year for the Duskians to get here.”  
“Didn’t it take you three months?” a Westerosi lord said. Arya searched the lord’s face before realizing she had no idea who he was.  
“Yes, it did, which means—”  
“So, why would it take a year?”  
“They need to build a new fleet. You see—”  
“Why a new fleet—”   
Arya squinted at him, “I’m sorry. Who in the seven hells are you?”  
“Lord Jak. Of Casterly Rock.”  
“Well, then Lord Jackass of Casterly Rock, if you would let me finish, I would tell you that I blew up their fleet.”  
“You blew up a fleet?” Sansa asked, shocked that her sister had done something like that.  
“It was their fault for having all the boats together!” Arya defended.   
Desso pinched Arya’s side, and Gendry’s eyes followed the motion. Arya slapped his hand away, “Either way, they are coming here to Westeros, and there’s no disguising why they are coming. They always come for the resources that a country can provide them. The reason they have not come for Westeros in the past was because we did not have any resources that they needed. Until now. A couple years ago, they made a way to make their weapons bigger and stronger using materials that only we have. They’re coming for our Valyrian Steel and our Dragonglass. Fortunately for them, Westeros is also perfectly poised for an invasion. Now that we’ve split in two, they believe that they have an opportunity to strike while we’re divided. We also—”  
“Are you saying that we should not have split?” a small voice piped up. Although the voice was small, one look at its owner told everyone that she was not to be trifled with. A dark braid was slung over the shoulder of the slender woman and Arya could see a little bit of herself in her. Something in the steel in her eyes and the set of her jaw told her that the woman could either be her biggest enemy or her biggest ally.   
Arya looked straight into the eyes of a small, northern woman. There seemed to be a tension that filled the room as the two women stared at each other. Everyone seemed poised to break up a fight for dominance between the Northern she-wolves.  
“And you are?” Arya asked.  
“Lady Sophie of—”  
“House Mormont,” Arya finished. The woman nodded sharply, and Arya smiled, “I figured as much. You have some large shoes to fill.” A respect seemed to bloom in Sophie’s eyes at the mention of Lyanna Mormont, but Arya continued, “As for your question. There’s no doubt in my mind that the North should have split. As I said, the Duskians believe that because there are now two countries that we won’t be able to work together.” Arya looked mischievously at her crew, noticing that Desso was still watching the Lady Mormont with a peculiar, cautious look in his eye, “They are currently under the impression that the Northern Queen and the Southern King currently find it hard to be in the same room as each other.”  
Lady Sophie smiled, “And I’m sure you wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”  
Arya’s head tilted, “The Pharaoh takes rumors entirely too seriously. That’s not my fault.”  
Both Sophie and Arya leaned back in their chairs, looking utterly delighted with each other, “It would appear so. I apologize, you were saying something.”  
“Ah! Yes…” Arya looked like she had forgotten.  
“We’re divided and something else?” Sophie prompted.  
“Yes!” Arya addressed the councils as a whole once more, “As I was saying, the Duskians are coming for dragonglass and Valyrian steel, and they know that those two resources are being transported in large quantities through one kingdom.”  
“And that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” Lord Gendry Baratheon said, “Blacksmiths and the like have all flocked to my domain.”  
“Yes,” Arya agreed, “So, you don’t just have large quantities of the material, but you also have people who know how to use it. When they come, they will most certainly go straight to Storm’s End.”  
“So why don’t we just give them Storm’s End if that’s what they want?” Lord Jack of Casterly Rock offered.  
“Because then they would have a way into the other kingdoms, for starters. Another reason is all of the people in Storm’s End would be subject to complete disarray and inhumane conditions. Another reason is that the Dragonglass is only transported to Storm’s End, so why would they stay with only one place that Bran could quickly cut off supplies to?”  
“So why don’t we give them Dragonstone?” Lord Jack said in a haughty tone.   
“Do I need to get a goddamned map, you idiot? Dragonstone is on the eastern side of the country. Dusk is in the west and they won’t want to have a country separating them from their land. Making sense now? On top of that, if they get their hands on Dragonglass, or, gods forbid, Valyrian Steel, then running all of the countries over would be even more of a laughing matter than it is now. And, just in case you haven’t grasped onto the fact, it already is a laughing matter to them.”  
Lord Jak sneered, “Well, don’t you think, princess, that if it is such a laughing matter—”  
Bran’s voice was calm, “I would watch how you speak to my sister, Lord Jack. And, as for your question, my sister has already tried the diplomatic route. Several times, actually, in several different ways. She pleaded with the Pharaoh, led a political party in favor of letting go of the empire, and even liberated a small portion of Dusk to weaken the countries defenses. She has gone through every possible channel to stop this war, and still the Duskians are coming. This woman has earned the respect of everyone in this room and we will not dishonor her when she travelled all this way to help us.”  
A tense silence filled the room as people stared at Bran and then at Arya. Although Bran’s voice had never raised above a low murmur, it was clear that he had left no room for discussion.  
“How big is a small portion of Dusk?” Sansa asked, breaking the tension in a way that only she could.  
Arya shrugged at her sister’s question, “About twice the size of Westeros and the North put together.”  
Desso butt in, “Probably more like two and a half.”  
“You think?” Arya looked over at him from where he sat beside her, “Two and a half, then.”  
Her sister raised her eyebrows, “You ruled over a country almost three times bigger than ours?”  
“Well…it’s not a country, more like a…. Look, it’s not like I liked it.”   
Desso shook his head, “She did like bossing people around though.”  
The small woman glared at him, “You’re not helping.”  
“And she did make it the most prosperous part of the continent without the use of an empire.”  
“Desso!”  
The man took ahold of Arya’s chair and turned her so that she was looking at him, “They should know. They should know what all you did for them and your people.”  
The two seemed to have a silent conversation between themselves for a moment, and Sansa observed them cautiously. She wondered just how deep the connection between a Devotee and a Devoted went, and how much of that relationship Desso and Arya had even without Adam.   
When Arya turned back towards the table, her hands went to push her hair back from her face. Sansa was quiet, but reassuring, “Only what we need to know. We need to understand.”  
Arya nodded, and Menden sat back in his chair, “Story time.”  
Arya glanced at Desso before studying the lords and ladies in the room. Her eyes fell on Lady Sophie as the woman leaned forward to listen to whatever Arya threw at her. She was the person Arya locked eyes with as she began, “I suppose it started when I tried to assassinate the Pharaoh.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

“It took us three months to get to Dusk, and another three to figure out what they were doing to the other countries. Once we figured out who they were, what they were doing, I knew I had to do something. I had heard that the Pharaoh goes to dinner earlier than all of his advisers so that he could see how they looked when they came in. So, I stole the face of one of the serving girls that had died from sickness and snuck up behind him.”  
“And?” Sansa asked, “What happened?”  
Arya shrugged, “He turned around and invited me to dinner.”  
“What?”  
“He had heard tale of the foreign woman that could change faces. He knew that I would come to him. So, he offered me the seat at his right hand, and when his advisers came in, he never mentioned the attempt. He spent the whole time trying to explain to me the need for the empire, saying that it helped everyone in the relationship share their resources and that, without it, the other countries in his empire would not know how to effectively use the resources the Duskians took from them. He was very convincing, but I had long since learned to see things for what they really are.  
“That was the night I met Adam. He was an adviser for the Pharaoh back then, and he said he was going to visit one of the other countries and wanted to know if I wanted to go with him so that I could see the need for it myself. He had never travelled outside of Dusk and wanted to see the empire for himself. So, I went. When we got to Kaira…” Arya shook her head, “Adam had spent the whole trip there talking about how reports showed that the country was growing and prospering. By the time we saw our first whipping, Adam had fallen silent.” Arya looked down at her hands, “It was a little girl. Couldn’t have been more than ten, and when they took off her shirt you could see every rib. I watched Adam’s face and I swear that I saw a chunk of his love for his country crumble with each scream. They had stopped every person that was working to make them watch. Once they were done, they just restarted work, leaving people to walk over the girl’s body. She was still alive for a while, just lying there, trying to get up.   
“Adam tried to help her, but guards blocked his path. Told him that he’d be next if he took another step towards her. So, the idiot tried again, and Desso and I ended up killing one of the guards to get them off of him.”  
“He never knows when to stop,” Desso interjected.  
Arya laughed, “That asshole. Remember Scandalin?”  
“Fucking Scandalin! Never going back!”  
Arya and her crew laughed, and Sansa cleared her throat, “Sorry.” Arya’s face fell, as if remembering other things about Adam, “Sorry.  
“On the way back, Adam and I decided we had to do something, so when we arrived Adam convinced the Pharaoh that he thought the empire was a necessary evil and that he wanted to help secure it in any way possible. The Pharaoh started to groom him to take over advising for the empire and Adam started gleaning information to help us later.   
“Meanwhile, I took the opposite approach. Adam had made me realize that I could not do this alone, so I made myself the leading critic of the empire. I gave speeches in the streets, protested the Pharaoh, and started to gather people around me that would help us defeat the Empire. I publicly shamed Adam for what he was doing to help it and we had many debates to get people talking about what the Empire was doing to their world. On the outside, we looked like enemies that couldn’t stand each other, but the Pharaoh started to see past our charade.   
“When Adam found plans for weapons that needed either Dragonglass or Valyrian Steel, he sent them to me straightaway, and then confronted the Pharaoh about it before I could tell him not to. The Pharaoh accused him of being a traitor and Adam was forced to run back to me.”  
Arya looked at Desso and he reached to cover her hands with his, “After that, Adam asked me if he could Devote himself to me and I said yes. It took me a while to recover from the Devotion—”  
“Recover?” Sansa asked, her voice small, “Why?”  
Arya looked at her sister for a long minute, trying to piece together what to say, “They said that I wasn’t ready for it. That I didn’t really know what I was getting into and it….” Arya took a breath and some of the lords shifted.  
“If you weren’t prepared for the Devotion, why would this… Adam let you do it, my lady?” one of the Northern lords asked.  
Arya shook her head, “It’s fine. Everything is fine.” Sansa did not look too sure. “Anyway, it took a while for me to get back on my feet and in that time, the political party I had built dissolved with no leadership…not that it got much in the first place.   
“While my supporters fell to the wind, the Empire was starting work on plans to invade our island and another resistance movement had started. We asked around about it and decided to go and see if it was like everyone said.   
“There, we met Captain Easton, who was the leader of the Rebel group. He wanted to cut Dusk in half, specifically wanted to cut the industrial side of Dusk off from the government side.   
“See, years ago, the Pharaoh started to dislike the factories that brought smog and hid the sun, so he delegated all of the North to be industrial and the sunny South to be the government paradise. So, if East could abdicate the industrial North, he thought he could cripple the South enough that they would let go of the Empire. East and I drew up a plan to do just that and it worked. We gained the North and stopped the factories.   
“For a time, goods stalled, the countries under the empire had nowhere to ship their raw materials to and the South suffered. For a time. The Pharaoh underwent a massive building project to make new factories in the South and slowly Dusk rebounded, even without the North. So, while I took care of things in the North, I sent Captain Easton to the South. He and a small group of rebels that I had trained to be Faceless would infiltrate and blow up factories or government buildings.  
“One of those government buildings held the finished plans to invade Westeros and plans to build the new weapons. Even after everything we had done to halt the attack, they were still going to go through with it. That was when we realized that there was nothing that we could do. If Dusk got their hands on these new weapons, taking over the rest of the world would be child’s play. That was why they didn’t bother the North. They didn’t need us anymore.   
“So, we did the only thing we could think of: we blew up their fleet and me and my crew left to warn you all. All we have been able to do is buy us all some time.”  
“And Captain Easton?” Sansa asked.  
“Still there.”  
“And the North?”  
Arya shook her head, “We have to assume that they’re now in Dusk’s hands again.”  
“You left your people? Just abandoned them?”  
Arya didn’t need to look up to know who had said anything. She would remember that voice even in her dying breath. Her eyes met a light blue set and was only a little shocked to see how disgusted they were with her and what she had done to her people.   
“I can assure you, Lord Gendry, that I prepared my people for their fight. I would not have left them unless I had the utmost confidence that they would try to do their duty. The duty of their cause and their country.”  
“And yet, their ruler couldn’t.”  
“Watch your mouth!” Desso snapped at him.   
Gendry’s eyes were hard, “You had a duty to your people to do anything possible to make sure that they survived, and yet, you left them, knowing full well that they would be invaded and enslaved. How exactly to do you plan on protecting them if you can’t even see them?”   
Arya’s voice was quiet, “There are other ways to protect the ones we love. Sometimes going away is the best thing we can do for them.”  
“Well, forgive me, my princess, if I don’t believe that.”  
“There are many things I regret, Lord Gendry, but how I chose to lead my people is not one of them.”  
Sansa shifted, clearly taking over the room, “Well, I think Arya has given us all some things to think about. Perhaps—”  
Sansa looked at the hand her sister placed on hers, then up at the small woman, “Just a couple more things?”  
Sister studied sister, both clearly overloaded with information, both with emotions threatening to overflow, but they both saw the same strength. It was strength that was smelted by their mother and father and hammered into them by the many challenges they were faced with over their years. They would not be taken down by a meeting.  
“Make it quick.”  
Arya stood, and, even with her diminuative stature, she seemed to tower over the lords and ladies, “I know some of you all do not believe in what I have told you. I know some of you do not believe in me. That’s fine. You need to know three things:   
“One: we cannot win this war with the training that we have, so my crew and I will start training soldiers tomorrow. I expect every man you can spare to join us and every one of them will become soldiers.  
“Two: we cannot win this war without allies. Dusk has enough soldiers to stand them shoulder to shoulder and cover Westeros and the North five times over. As soon as we’re able, my crew will go to lands within the empire and ask for them to rebel and defend us.   
“Three: we will need a strong fighter that will both lead our armies and teach them what they need to know. To do this, we need fast learners with great leadership skills. So, by the end of this month, our commander will be back where he belongs. Jon Snow is coming back.”


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

When Tyrion rolled Bran out of the mayhem that had become their meeting, Sansa and Arya were already there outside arguing.  
“We can’t bring Jon back. Not without bringing the Unsullied back here to decimate the whole land. We can’t be fighting two wars, Arya. We can’t fight Dusk and what remains of Daenerys’ army, and we shouldn’t try to just for one man! I love Jon, you know I do, but this is not how we get him back! If there were a way, I would have done it already!”  
Tyrion’s voice was little, “I will leave you here, Your Grace.”  
Arya took a step towards her sister, “You and I both know, Sansa, that Jon is the only one able to lead this army! You have little military experience and Bran can’t go into battle, so tell me exactly who you thought was going to lead our armies!”  
“You! I thought you would lead our armies! I thought you would teach them! I thought you came here to do more than just warn us!”  
“I am one person!” Arya’s voice seemed to echo down the hall as her shoulders drooped. Arya managed to look both like a small child and an elderly woman at the same time. “I am one person, Sansa, and I am tired. I need him to come back because, while I can do a lot, I cannot do everything. I need help.”  
Sansa studied her sister before shaking her head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I don’t see how we can bring him back.” Arya could have sworn her sister had tears in her eyes.  
“Wasn’t Jon banned by Westeros?”  
Bran nodded, “He was.”  
“Then why doesn’t the North grant him asylum? Allow him to come home from the Wall?”  
Sansa shook her head, “It’s too risky.”  
“Sansa,” Arya threw up her hands, “We don’t know if the Unsullied will come. We do know that Dusk is.”  
“It’s not just that, Arya.” Sansa lowered her voice, “There are still those who would rather a man be ruler of the North and they are willing to replace Jon with me if the opportunity arises. If they were able to replace me, how kindly do you think they would treat me?”  
Arya shifted, “Probably not very well.”  
Sansa’s face showed no emotion, “They would have my head on a spike and a smile on their face before Jon sits his ass fully on the throne. There are many things I would do for my country but having them execute me because I was not a man is not one of them.  
“If I grant Jon asylum, if I pardon him, I might as well be signing my own death order.”  
“There’s another way,” Bran said. Both of his sisters looked at him. “If Sansa were to pardon him, it would break Jon from his vows as a man of the Night’s Watch. He would be able to take a wife. He would be able to hold lands. There’s also the added bit about the Unsullied coming for us all and destroying us where we stand.  
“However, the Wall is now an unnecessary relic and the Night’s Watch has simply become a place to send bastards and criminals. We could, potentially, take the Night’s Watch off of the Wall. We could repurpose it. The Night’s Watch was created to fight against forces beyond our borders that might seek to destroy our kingdoms. Arya has just told us that the world is much bigger than we imagined.”  
“So,” Sansa said, catching on, “Instead of the Night’s Watch defending us against the dead, they are defending our two countries against these other countries.”  
“Which allows them to come off of the Wall,” Arya said, “And gives us an even bigger army to destroy Dusk.”  
“And since Jon is still with the Night’s Watch, he is still exiled, and he is still bound to his oaths.” Sansa nodded.  
“Which means no heirs to the throne and no ability to rule over any lands.”  
Bran nodded, “And who better to give the order than our brilliant Queen Sansa, who has found our countries an army and a commander.”  
“But I didn’t think of it!” Sansa said, “You did.”  
Bran shook his head, “You need this. It will help secure your throne further.”  
“I can’t take credit for something you did!”   
“You need to. All of the Starks aren’t going to make it out of this war alive.” Sansa and Arya shifted. “We should do what we can to make sure that our kingdoms survive past us.”  
Sansa and Bran’s eyes met before Sansa nodded.  
Bran smiled, “Good. Now, don’t you have a feast to plan?”  
“Feast?” Arya asked, “What feast?”

(*&*)

“This is very sweet of you, Sansa, but completely unnecessary.” Arya tried.  
“That’s cute,” Sansa said, smirking at Arya’s attempt to call off the feast. She opened the lid to Arya’s chest of clothes, looking through it for something decent, “Do you know how it would look if our sister comes back after three years and she doesn’t even get so much as a welcome feast? Not to mention, everyone needs a good, hefty drink right now. It’s a good boost of morale.”  
“Sansa!” Arya exasperated.  
“Arya!” mimicked her sister, “Just think of it like this: it may sound like a welcome feast, it may look like a welcome feast, but it is simply for the war effort.”  
“And for people to ask me way too many questions, and, if people are drunk enough, for someone to ask me to marry them!”  
“Only if you’re lucky,” Sansa teased, “You can’t wear breeches. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wear a dress. Do you have something suitable?”  
There was a stare off as Sansa smiled at her little sister. Arya sighed, “Yes.”  
She reached into the bottom of the chest until she felt the fur-covered box, “It’s in the Bendish style though.”  
“Bendish?”  
“The country that I created. It’s called the Bend.” Arya opened the box and untied her cape, “There’s a river that loops and crosses and everything else you can think of through the country.” She untied and pulled her shirt over her head, “It powers all of the factories and makes a good defense. When we were taking over the country, we drove the Duskian armies onto islands created by the river and then we blew up the bridges that led to the islands.” Arya’s breeches fell to the ground. “Eventually, they either starved or drowned or surrendered.”  
“Sounds dreadful.”  
“The screaming was.”  
The door banged open just as Arya was completely naked. Menden appeared with peanuts in his hand and took in his captain for a second before coming further into the room. “I like that outfit, Stark. You going to wear that to the ball?”  
“Do you think it’s too scandalous?” Arya said with a spin.  
Menden pretended to think, leaning against the wall and popping a nut into his mouth, “No, I think it’s perfect.”  
Sansa’s mouth was on the floor, but Arya failed to notice as she lifted her dress over her head. She quickly got stuck with her head barely peeking out of the skirts and sighed, “Are either of you going to help me, or are you just going to stand there?”  
Menden laughed and walked over to Arya. He placed a nut near her mouth, “Want one?”  
“Maybe later,” Arya laughed. Menden popped the rest of the peanuts into his mouth before helping his captain slip the dress over her shoulders.   
“Better?” he asked.  
“Much,” Arya said.  
“You all seem very comfortable with each other,” Sansa’s eyes were as big as saucers, her face shifting from scandalized to amused and back again. “Should I leave?”  
“No, he’s here for you,” Arya said. She took two necklaces out of the box, “Pearls or direwolf?”  
“Definitely the wolf. Show your true colors. Woof.” Menden’s hand scraped the air in front of him in the shape of claws.   
“Direwolves don’t ‘woof’, Menden. Gold or black?” Arya pointed at the shoes.  
“Gold.”  
Sansa looked overwhelmed either by the sailors’ familiarity or her sister’s newfound agreement with fashion, “I’m sorry. I’m just confused. Why is he here for me?”  
“You told me the Northern lords don’t exactly like that a woman is their ruler, so Menden is here to make sure that no one tries anything.”  
“They’re not going to kill me!” Sansa exclaimed.  
“Not with Menden around, that’s for sure.”  
“I have guards of my own.”  
“None with his skill set,” Arya replied.  
“You see, Your Grace,” Menden smiled with assured arrogance, “I tend to stop the threats before they…become apparent.”  
“So, he’s an assassin?”  
“I prefer the term ‘pre-bodyguard’, if you will, Your Grace.”  
“Arya!” Sansa cried hysterically.  
“Sansa!” Arya mimicked. “I do the feast and you entertain Menden’s unique company. Or, I don’t go to the feat. Either one is fine by me!” She handed Menden a cape, “You know how to put this on, right?”

(*&*)

Arya watched as Menden escorted her sister into the Great Hall, sending a wink back over his shoulder at his captain.  
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Desso asked, linking her arm through his.  
“I’m sure it isn’t, but Sansa could use a few laughs.”  
Desso hummed and leaned down to whisper into Arya’s ear, “You didn’t hear this from me, but… you look beautiful.”  
“How tragic.”  
“There’s still time to roll in mud.”  
Arya turned forward, “Don’t tempt me.”  
Desso became serious, “You’re sure that you don’t want to cover your back? It marks you. It marks you as an outsider.” Arya held his gaze as he continued, “I know what that’s like. Sometimes it’ not always a good thing. To be different.”  
“You think they’ll think of me as an outsider?”  
“Yes.”  
Arya turned back towards the door, her voice hard with determination. “Good.”

(*&*)

Her hair had been pulled into a side braid with a gold circlet on her head. The dress was grey with black and gold trimming at the edges and neckline. Its full skirt floated to the ground and dragged behind her. The black cape with the gold direwolf had a deep V cut, leaving her back exposed. Black swirls covered her back in a V ending at the small of her back.   
Arya had been sure to do everything precisely, and when the doors opened, the lords and ladies of both Westeros and the North knew who they were dealing with. She had left this continent a woman with great skill and come back… something else. And when everyone started to stare at her, Arya knew they got the message.  
“Remember,” Arya whispered.  
“Build Jon’s reputation,” Desso said, “He’s the only man for the job. He’s done so much for the North and helped warn of the Others. Don’t mention the dragon queen.”  
“And change the subject to something that makes Jon look good if they bring her up. Also, try to them that he is a man of the Night’s Watch and that people should respect his vows.” Arya commanded in a low voice.  
“Do you think it will work like it did in Dusk?”  
“Rumors are powerful things, and our crew knows exactly how to spread them.”  
“Lady Arya?” Lord Tyrion asked, appearing beside them, “A moment of your time?”  
“Of course, my lord,” Arya smiled at him before turning back to Desso, “Make the rounds, do what needs to be done. Jon gets nothing but respect when he arrives.”  
She slipped her arm out of his and Desso kissed her hand before he left, joining in on a discussion about the meeting with some of the other lords.  
“Is there something I can help you with, Lord Tyrion?” Arya asked, even as Tyrion eyed Adam’s Devoted.  
“Yes, uh, I was hoping that maybe after the feast is over, you would be willing to sit with me and we might discuss some things. Important matters of state, you understand? You are the princess of both Westeros and the North. The only one in fact.”  
“Yes, I’m quite aware of my peculiar situation, Lord Tyrion, thank you for reminding me.”  
“Well, it is just—”  
“Lady Arya?” a voice asked, and Arya turned to see Lord Gendry Baratheon, dressed in his house’s colors, his blue eyes shining with an unnamable emotion, “I was hoping I could talk with you.”  
“Yes,” Arya nodded, “It’s quite hot in here. How about a walk?”  
“Lady—” Lord Tyrion was cut off.  
“Yes, Lord Tyrion. I will see you after the feast and we can discuss then. If you’ll excuse us.”  
Then Lady Arya and Lord Gendry Baratheon linked arms and walked out of the hall, Arya’s black and gold cape billowing behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the next chapter has to be done very carefully, so wish me luck. Yes, it's the chapter we've been waiting on.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

Arya and Gendry walked down the castle path that led to the docks. The only other people around the was a couple so entranced by each other that they did not notice the awkward walk the other two took past them. Overhead, the lanterns mimicked the stars in the sky and Arya thought of how much bigger the stars seemed in the Bend.  
“I know you’re mad at me,” she started, looking straight ahead.  
“I stopped being angry with you a long time ago, Arya.”  
That probably stung more than anything.  
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry that I left things the way I did.”  
“Yeah? Yeah, you’re sorry for leaving? Are you—”  
“Not for leaving. For the way I left things when I left. There’s a big difference. I should not have left without a goodbye or an explanation.”  
Gendry let out a bitter laugh, “So, you really did not learn anything, did you? You left two countries here, family members that needed you, people that needed you, and you did the same thing over there.”  
“I had to leave the Bend! That’s not fair, Gendry! I had to leave them, and I had to leave you!” Arya stopped where she was and Gendry span around to look at her.  
“Had to! Had to! You didn’t have to leave! You could have just as easily stayed here as you could have left, but no! No! You had to leave everyone behind! Sansa, Bran, Jon, me! Everyone who ever gave a damn about you!”  
“I was broken!” Arya screamed.  
“Broken?!” Arya knew Gendry well enough to know that he was about to explode. And then he would truly show his Baratheon colors.  
“Yes! Yes, Gendry!” She grabbed onto his arms, pulling him closer to her and shaking her, “Think about it Gendry! Think for just one second! The girl that you met in Winterfell, think about her. Was she anything like the girl you met on the KIngsroad?”  
“What?”  
“Was I anything like myself?!” Arya shook him, her face desperate, “Gendry, I was gone!” Arya’s voice broke and something in Gendry broke with it. He broke his arms out of her grip and started down the path again, leaving Arya to follow after him. “The girl you met on the Kingsroad was in pain and was scared, but she was also passionate and loyal.”  
“Stop.”  
“She befriended you and never wanted to leave your side.”  
“Stop!”  
“She felt things. She felt everything, didn’t she?”  
“I said quit!”  
“That girl in Winterfell felt nothing! Not for you! Not for Sansa! Not for Bran! Not even for Jon! She had to emotion, no loyalty! She wasn’t even scared anymore!”  
“Stop it!”  
“She was a shell, Gendry!”  
Gendry was in Arya’s face before she even had time to react, “I said to stop! I said to shut your mouth!”  
Arya’s hands were gentle as she cupped his face, making him look at her. Really look at her.  
Gendry was shocked to find tears in her eyes, “I had to leave, Gendry. I had to find a way to be me again. And you? You and Sansa and Bran and Sandor and Jon, all of you showed me. You showed me that I needed to find myself again. And I had to leave to get her back.”  
“I could have helped you! You could have stayed with me! I could have helped you do that!”  
Arya gave a watery laugh and shook her head. She began to walk down the slope closer and closer to the docks, “I didn’t get to know my crew on the way to Dusk. I was just their captain for that time. A figurehead that no one could quite get to know because I didn’t know how. I used to be able to make friends with anyone. Literally anyone, but then I didn’t know how to make one friend.   
The reason that the assassination attempt did not work was because I tried to do it alone.   
It took a magical Devotion ceremony for me to open myself back up again. The ceremony took a part of me and gave it to Adam. It split me in two so violently that it took me a month to get out of bed. A month, Gendry! I hated being vulnerable to someone else. I hated the fact that Adam now had a part of me when I had locked every part of me away for so long. And I especially hated the fact that for that whole month he took care of me because I couldn’t do it myself. He washed me and fed me and carried me to sunlight.  
“After that month, I started to get used to it. I started opening myself up to him and to other people. I started to realize what I was missing when I was caging myself off. It was only after then that I started to get to know my crew. That we became a family. Without the Devotion, I probably would not be here. The war would already be lost, you along with it.”  
Gendry walked alongside her silently with his hands in his pockets. “I could have helped you.”  
Arya stepped onto the docks, “You could have. But not as much and not in that short amount of time. And even then, Dusk would have still come and without my crew and Captain Easton holding them off Dusk would have already come. And we would both be dead anyway.”  
Arya stopped in the middle of the docks, “Again, like I said: I’m not sorry for leaving.”  
She cupped his face again, “But I truly, truly am sorry for leaving you without a word. I realize now how much that hurt you. I can’t change that, but I was hoping… I was hoping that we could be friends.”  
“Friends?”  
“Like we were…before.”  
“Before we laid together?” Gendry turned to her without an ounce of shame, but she looked away from him.  
“Before we both got to Winterfell. Before you were taken. Before we had the argument about you leaving. Before—”  
“Before you proposed to me to get me to stay with you?”   
Arya finally looked up at him, “Yes. Exactly. Before that.”  
There was a beat of silence as the two of them looked out at the river.  
Arya finally managed to get up the courage, “I heard you were considering a betrothal.”  
“I am. Your brother has to give his blessing before we move forward.”  
“Congratulations.”  
“Nothing is official yet.”  
Arya shrugged, “She’s a good pick, even if Highgarden is still in shambles. She’ll help feed your people and give them the lady they deserve.”  
“Yes, she’s a perfect match for my people.”  
Arya glanced over at him, “But not for you?”  
Gendry refused to look at her. After a while, he shifted, “I’ve missed my best friend.” He finally looked at her, “I think it would be lovely to have her back. Even if she is a pain in my ass.”  
Arya smiled brightly at him, holding out her hand, “Friends?”  
Gendry smiled at the hands, before taking it in his, “Best friends.”  
Gendry hadn’t seen her face light up that bright since she was little and rolling around the dirt with him, “Best friends.”  
They released each other’s hands and Arya stepped away, “Well, now that that’s taken care of, I have something to show you.”  
“Okay. Where?” Gendry looked around and by the time he looked back, Arya had already taken off her shoes and had started climbing the side of a ship.  
“Hey!” he laughed, watching her struggle with her dress.  
“Come on, you slow poke! And don’t look up my dress, I’m not wearing anything under it.”  
“Oh, of course you aren’t! Is this even your ship?”  
“Oh, no!” she said sarcastically, “I just thought we’d take someone else’s ship for a little joy ride!”

(*&*)

“So, this is where you spent all that time,” Gendry said, following Arya below deck.  
“Usually it’s got a lot more people on it. Now, it seems strange.”  
“Where are you taking me?” Gendry asked as Arya stopped in front of a door.  
“Here,” Arya said, opening the door to a large storage area, filled with large boxes.  
Gendry lifted one of the lids and then looked at Arya in wonder, “Is this?”  
“The weapons. We stole a lot of them before we destroyed the fleet. Tried to get as many as we could.”  
Arya laid her hand gently on the top of the crate, “This was why Adam didn’t make it out.”  
Gendry grimaced, “I’m sorry.”  
Arya didn’t say anything for a while and Gendry took a look at the other boxes. “What is this?” he asked.  
Arya peered into the box, “Ammunition. It’s like the arrows to a bow. You put it in the weapon and pull the trigger. It will spit those out so fast that you can’t see them.”  
“Wow.” Gendry said.  
“Could you make them?” Arya asked.  
Gendry shrugged, “I suppose I could, they just look like metal balls. Shouldn’t be too hard.”  
“And the weapons?”   
“The weapons?”  
“We don’t have enough. Not for everybody. And we need as many as we can get.”  
Gendry went over to the crates and pulled out a weapon, “I don’t know, Arry. There’s a lot of moving parts here. Maybe if I saw how it worked…”  
“Alright, then.” Arya took five pieces of ammunition from the box and crossed over to them. “Each of them takes five shots. They’re loaded into this compartment. When you pull this trigger, the gun will jerk back, and the ball will go through the tube. Then, the compartment turns and you’re able to shoot again.” She raised the gun up and pointed it at the back wall, “You might want to cover your ears.”  
“Why?”  
“It’s loud.”  
Gendry raised his hands to his ears and watched as the tiny woman in her bare feet and cape and gown lined up the shot and squeezed the trigger.  
There was a loud bang and smoke filled the air, but once it cleared Arya was still where she was and there was a hole in the back wall.  
“Wow. Can I get closer?” Gendry asked.  
“Make sure you stay behind me.”  
Gendry sat behind her left shoulder and watched as she lined up the shot again. This time he was able to see the way her tiny shoulders jerked back on impact. Even though she was lined up to make a shot at the same place she had originally shot the gun, the hole letting moonlight in, another hole appeared, two feet away.  
“Why did it?”  
“This is why they want the Dragonglass. It would make the gun more accurate, even at further distances. It would be even more deadly than before.  
“We have the plans for the guns,” Arya looked at him, “All we need are the smiths. And you have a large—”  
Arya stumbled back, dropped the weapon, and clutched her stomach.  
“Arya?” Gendry rushed to her, “What is it? Are you okay? Arya?”  
Arya’s eyes were full of fear, and Gendry thought they looked much like prey when they faced certain death. She doubled over with pain again, and Gendry wrenched her hands away from her stomach.  
“I—I don’t see anything. Arya, what’s wrong?”  
“Adam.”   
Gendry shook his head, his eyes wide, “I don’t—I don’t understand. What has Adam got to do with this?”  
Arya’s eyes went to his, “It’s Desso. Something’s wrong with Desso.”


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

“Arya! Arry!” Gendry ran after Arya as she raced off towards the ladder to the dock. She coughed and made a gurgling sound in her throat, but she still kept running. She ran the way that a mother deer does from a wild fire, trying to get her children away from the blaze, that look of absolute horror and desperation, her legs flying as fast as they would take her. She threw herself over the boat, skimming the ladder as fast as she could. Half way down, she gave out a scream and dropped the rest of the way, falling onto her back.  
“Arya!” Gendry climbed after her, but she didn’t take more than a second before she was back up, coughing to catch her breath and running down the docks. “Please, Arry! Just wait!”  
But she didn’t hear him. She kept running and running, gasping for breath.  
Once she got off the docks, she shot through the woods, where there was no path. She was hellbent on getting somewhere, and Gendry could only guess it was to Desso. She didn’t veer off her path. She didn’t turn. She shot straight through the woods like an arrow, zooming towards her Devoted like she knew exactly where he was, grabbing at her stomach in a way that Gendry knew it was still hurting her.  
Gendry chased after her, trying to catch up to her using his longer legs, but couldn’t. Arya was trained to do this, and, even if she was in a dress and barefoot, she had the upper hand.  
When she broke through the trees onto the path, she didn’t hesitate before she threw herself directly in front of the man attacking Desso. The man took a blind swipe at the princess, more on instinct than anything else to ward off the person flying towards him. He catches Arya with his blade, slicing into her abdomen, and trying to throw her small body aside. She crumbled on top of Desso, blood seeping from her wound as Gendry called her name, running towards her.   
The man’s eyes filled with shock beneath his Northern armor, “Princess?”  
What happened next, was almost too quick for Gendry or Arya to see. One second, the northern lord was standing in front of Arya and Desso, a knife still poised to strike, and the next a great beast had swallowed his head. Blood sprayed over Arya, but she felt no fear.  
She was only shocked and in pain as she looked at the beast and then the body in front of her. “Nymeria?”  
Seemingly in answer, the large animal shook out her fur and walked over to the prone Desso.   
Desso was not in good shape. The northern lord’s knife had gotten him several times in the gut before Arya had gotten there. Blood soaked his good clothes and he had not reacted to anything that had happened, his eyes closed.   
Nymeria pushed Desso with her snout, looking for any sign of life before wiggling with her snout under his body until Desso was on her back. She took one more deliberating look at Arya and Gendry, who was helping the woman stand, before leaping into the night towards the castle.   
“It’s Nymeria, Gendry.” Arya’s voice was small and weak.  
“Yeah. Yeah…I saw that.” Gendry swung Arya up into his arms, carrying her towards the castle, much in the same way Desso and the beast had taken off.  
“She’s so big,” Arya slurred before fainting in Gendry’s arms.  
By the time, Gendry had made it to the castle, the courtyard was full of noise and hysterical chatter. Sansa, still in her finery, leaned over a still unconscious Desso with his head in her lap, Menden and the rest of Arya’s crew a step behind her. Nymeria stayed by her side, nuzzling the Sansa to get her to do something.  
The Stark sister just looked up at Gendry, her eyes moving to Arya’s face.  
“Who did this?” her voice shook with rage, even as she gently held Desso’s face.  
“A Northern lord. He lost his head for it.”  
“A Northerner? A Northerner attacked my sister?”  
Bran pulled his wheelchair to a stop and took in the situation in front of him. His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes were full of worry. “Sansa, we need to get them both inside and to a healer. Or we could lose them both.”  
Sansa nodded and gave the necessary orders. A medic came and checked over Arya’s wound. “Superficial at worst, my queen. She should be just fine.”  
“No,” Bran said, “Desso’s wounds can still affect Arya. Her body will be just as injured as Desso’s, only we can’t see it. We need to heal them both.”  
“So,” Sansa held Desso more firmly in her lap, “If he dies…”  
“It’s quite possible that Arya could join him in his grave. Same with Adam.”  
“Get them both to the med bay,” Sansa said.  
“Keep them near each other. Any potions you give Desso, give to Arya as well. Treat them like one body.”

(*&*)  
Bran sat next to Sansa as she stood outside of the Arya and Desso’s sick room, trying to breathe, but seeming to fail. She kept looking over to Gendry, who sat next to the door with his head in his hands.  
“It’s not your fault, Sansa.” Bran said.  
“I just…I don’t understand this. A Northerner? A-and them being connected like that? And Nymeria? Nymeria? Where the hell did Nymeria come from?”  
The great beast had been the only one allowed to come into the sick room with the healers, mostly because when a healer tried to get her to leave Nymeria had snapped her jaws at him. After that, she had curled up in the corner of the room and no one had even brought up the idea of moving her.   
“I just…I don’t understand. Why was Desso even away from the feast?”  
“The Northern lord had wanted to talk to him alone. Said he was interested in the Devotion and wanted to know more. Desso went with him.”  
“You saw it?” Sansa asked, “You saw it and didn’t try to save him?”  
“I didn’t see it at the time. I can’t be everywhere at once, Sansa, and, as you’ll recall, I was in a rather lively debate over whether Jon should come back or not. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to help him, but I can try to explain it now.”  
Sansa shifted to lean against the wall, “Go on.”  
“Yes, please,” a voice said. Bran and Sansa both turned to see Arya’s crew. A broad, burly man crossed his arms over his chest, his tan face and style of beard marking him as a Southerner, “Please tell us what happened.”  
His words were polite, but his tone spoke of barely-bridled rage that was trying to snap.  
“The Northern lord. He was the one that asked why Adam would ask Arya if he could Devote himself to her if he knew what would happen to her. What he did…it was born out of ignorance to the situation, and partially our fault for not explaining it better. He did not understand how bound to Arya, Adam, and Desso are. He was under the impression that Adam had done the Devotion ceremony to weaken Arya, and that he was really a spy for the Duskians. He thought that it was possible that Desso and Adam were communicating with each other and that Adam had meant to be captured by the Duskians so that he could stay and tell the commanders what was going on here.”  
“Could that happen?” Sansa asked.  
“No,” Bran explained, “They can’t talk to each other, per say, but they can make the other do things. Adam was the one that sent Arya. He was the one that drove Arya to get to Desso. But that’s only in life or death situations.”  
“But Adam can make them do things?”  
“Yes,” the burly man said, “But he would never betray Arya. He can’t. A Devoted can’t betray their Devotee. Like Bran said in the Great Hall, a Devoted takes up their Devotees causes.”  
“Can a Devotee betray their Devoted?”  
The man shrugged, “Technically? Yes, they can. But there are only a couple of instances where a Devotee has betrayed their Devoted, and it always has bad consequences for them.”  
“And what about Arya and Desso? They’re not Devoted, so why would she feel his pain?”  
“Think of it like this: people are a piece of rope and during the Devotion Ceremony the two pieces are tied together. So Desso was tied to Adam and Adam was tied to Arya. Adam ties Desso and Arya together, and if someone tugs on Desso’s piece of rope, Arya’s piece of rope can still feel the tension.”  
Sansa was catching on, “So, if he feels pain, it’s like the tension on the rope.”  
The man nodded, a big, soft smile spreading across his face, “Exactly. Good job.”  
Sansa shook her head, “Why would someone Devote themselves to someone if there are all of these consequences?”  
The man shrugged, “Because the cost of being injured does not outweigh the benefits.”  
“Which are what exactly?”  
“Protection for the others. Arya was able to know that Desso was in danger and she knew exactly where to go. Some people do it for other reasons. There’s a reason that the people in the relationship are called the Devoted and the Devotee. The Devotee could have a lot of power in the relationship, if that is how they choose to build the relationship that way, but Arya and Adam’s and Adam and Desso’s Devotion are both mainly built off of trust and protection. They can all trust each other, and they can all protect each other. That drew them together more than anything else.”  
“And they can’t do that without being magically tied to each other?”  
“No,” Gendry said, finally piping up, “They wouldn’t be able to do that to the extent that they can now.”  
He looked up at Arya’s sister, “You didn’t see her face. That fear. In all the years I’ve known her, she’s never looked that terrified. He means so much to her that it’s inhumane. I can’t even explain it. It went so much farther than anything anyone can express. It was animalistic and primal and instinctive and completely necessary for her to go to him. And when she got to him…she didn’t even stop. Arya could have taken that man down easily, but she just threw herself in front of Desso.”  
Gendry stared at the wall, “She gets a lot more out of the Devotion than we could ever know.”  
Sansa leaned her head against the wall, “And how do we explain Nymeria?”  
Gendry shook his head, “My guess: Adam sent her too. He might not have known that he was sending her, but Arya and Nymeria have always been connected, even when Arya was little, she used to… become Nymeria in her sleep. She called them wolf dreams. If Arya and Desso and Adam are connected, then we can add Nymeria into the mix.”  
Bran shifted, “Arya? Arya can warg?”  
“Into Nymeria, yes.” Gendry said.  
“Not just Nymeria,” Menden said, “She did it with rats to help us figure out layouts of places to break into.”  
“Like you do with the birds?” Sansa asked.  
Bran just nodded.  
Menden looked over at Gendry, “I suppose there’s only one way to test your theory.”  
“Which is?”  
“See if Nymeria stays. If she’s Devoted to Arya, then Adam’s call would have been a slap in the face. She probably thought that Arya was safe, but now that she knows that her Devotee is in trouble, Nymeria won’t want to leave her side.”


	10. Chapter 10

Dusk Is Coming Ch. 10

When Arya woke up again, her eyes immediately went to Desso. She could see bandages poking out of his shirt, but he slept soundly, spread out across his bed with stretched out towards her. Desso went in and out of focus and Arya had to close her eyes to let the wave of nausea pass.  
She should have been there. She shouldn’t have left Desso alone in a country where he was a stranger, where the natives did not trust him. She was disgusted with herself. She let her crew down, her pack. They depended on her and she had let them down.  
On her own bed, she felt a weight pressing on her legs, causing them to tingle. Nymeria had climbed up onto her bed with her, even though the twin bed was clearly too small, and she had spread herself along her legs, resting her head on Arya’s stomach.  
“Nymeria,” Arya called softly, her hand going to her wolf’s ears and weakly rubbing at them.  
Bright eyes opened, and Nymeria stood up on the bed and moved carefully to lick Arya’s face. Even though the guilt of almost killing Desso still weighed on her, she couldn’t help but smile softly, almost motherly, at the direwolf.  
“What a good girl,” Arya told her, “What a big girl you are. You’ve grown so much.”  
Arya could have sworn that Nymeria was crying, but she was too tired to lift her head. Arya felt a wave of weakness roll through her body and she began to nod off.  
“You need a bath,” Arya slurred, drifting back to sleep.

(*&*)

Arya woke up to the slamming of a door. She looked over to see Tyrion making his way over to her bed.  
“Oh, good,” he said, climbing into the seat someone had pulled up to her bed, “You’re up.”  
Nymeria growled at the imp from her place at Arya’s feet. Tyrion glanced cautiously at the beast, making sure not to meet Nymeria’s eyes, “I think I like Ghost better than your wolf.”  
“You should.”  
Tyrion studied her, leaning back in his chair, trying to ignore her comment, “How are you feeling?”  
“I’m fine. But you did not come here to talk about my health.”  
Tyrion laughed uncomfortably at the woman’s candor and decided it was best to mirror it, “Yes, well, I figured that would be a safer topic than what I did come to talk about.””  
“Which is?”  
“The question of your marital status.”  
“Oh, gods.” Arya rolled her eyes at the small man. Arya already knew the discussion that was coming, and she did not want to have it, much less have it with her sister’s ex-semihusband.  
Tyrion would not hear anything of it though, “Whether you like it or not, you are the Princess of both the North and the South. You are the Bringer of Dawn and Explorer of the West. You also hold much of the information we have on our current enemy, and if we were to survive this war, you would come out of it with an amazing amount of power and prestige. Along with that, you also now come with the power over an industrial nation that has over two times the land of our little island and over three times as many people. You also bring weapons far better and safer than ours.  
“Do you see now why you would make a great catch as a wife?”  
Arya stared at him, “Yes, I can see how that would look attractive to a lot of lords.”  
“Not a lot. All of the lords. They all want to make you their wife. And to be honest, as a princess of both of the countries of Westeros, especially one who ran off before fulfilling any duties to either crown, you should want to help solidify both of your siblings’ rules by marrying.”  
“I should not have to.”  
Tyrion’s eyes softened and remembered the little girl he had watched run around Winterfell. She had been robbed of a childhood, and here her was trying to take away more. Nevertheless, this needed to be done for the continent, for his country, for King Bran, for Sansa, “No, you shouldn’t. I completely agree, but right now your brother and sister need support, and you are their best weapon to get that. Yet neither of them will use it. Why do you think that is?”  
“They know I don’t want to marry. They know that I have a nation I need to get back to after this war is done. I can’t just forget about my people and come be a princess here. They need me.”  
“Everyone knows that.” Tyrion threw his hands up, “Everyone knows you don’t want to marry, and yet they will wait in line forever just to have the opportunity to court you. They all know you will leave, and yet they are all planning futures with you in their lives. Everyone knows that you won’t give up your country or your life, and yet they still want you. So why aren’t Bran or Sansa using it?”  
Arya stayed silent, and Tyrion switched tactics, leaning closer, “I am not proposing that you marry, Lady Arya. I am simply offering that you use their want to court you to our advantage. Which leads to my question. I need to know if you are married, Lady Arya. And I need to know if your maidenhood is intact.” Nymeria growled between them.  
“Why would my maidenhood matter if we are just tricking the lords?”  
“Because there was a very common rumor when you left that the Lord Gendry Baratheon had taken your virginity on a sack of potatoes in an outdoor hallway. They say that he proposed to you after he was legitimized and that the two of you are secretly married. These rumors have only come back recently when you appeared in the Great Hall and made direct eye contact with him during your speech and again when you disappeared with him during your own Welcoming Ball.”  
Tyrion leaned forward, the chair creaking beneath him, “Is there any truth in those rumors, Lady Arya?”  
Arya looked away, “We’re not married.”  
Tyrion waited, “And the other rumors?”  
“He did ask me to marry him when he was legitimized and I said no.” She paused, searching Tyrion’s mismatched gaze for any judgement, “And it wasn’t a sack of potatoes.”  
Tyrion sighed, covering his eyes.  
“That would just be uncomfortable,” Arya commented.  
“And Adam?”  
“What about him?”  
“Was Lord Gendry the only man you’ve been with?”  
“No.”  
“How many times exactly?”  
Arya’s eyebrows rose, “How many times have you been with a woman?”  
Tyrion sighed, “I’ll take that to mean you can’t count that high.”  
Arya studied her brother’s Hand, “Again, I don’t see why my maidenhood would matter if we are just tricking the lords into thinking that I would court them. Unless, of course…if you don’t mean to trick them.”  
Tyrion looked up at her, but Arya continued her eyes steady and harsh on his, “Unless you mean to trick me instead and really do mean to marry me off. In which case, I should inform you that my country’s laws do not allow my husband to have a higher title or more power than me. They are also not allowed into battle or into the politics of my country. They are also not allowed to hold any power or even a connection to any other country.”  
Tyrion studied the woman for a minute, “I see. At least I know now that one of the rumors is true.”  
“And which one is that?”  
Tyrion glared at the woman, “That you are the most selfish woman in any kingdom.”  
Arya was startled, and Tyrion leaned forward in his chair to tower over the small girl, “Your sister is hanging onto her kingdom by a thread. Your brother, despite his calm exterior, is fighting for support and allies within his kingdom. And I don’t think that I need to tell you that war can do dangerous things to a ruler. And yet, you will not lift a finger to help them solidify their power.   
“Wars killed two of your brother and banished another one to the Wall. Your family has been destroyed by war, and you would rather let another sibling die in this war than take on a slight discomfort of a marriage.”  
Arya looked away from Tyrion, her eyes falling on Desso’s chest as it barely moved under it’s bandages.  
Still, Tyrion wasn’t finished, “It’s selfish Lady Arya. It’s selfish of you to let your siblings sacrifice themselves for you once again. I would have thought your time away and your new political skills would have made you grow up, but clearly you would still rather kill than sacrifice even the tiniest bit of who you are. And make no mistake, Lady Arya. If you have to watch Sansa’s body crumble to the ground or Bran cough up blood it will be your fault.”  
There was silence in the room. After a little while, Tyrion thought the Stark woman had fallen asleep again. Exasperated, he got up and headed towards the door, but Arya’s near-silent whisper stopped him.  
“Will you please go and get my brother?”


	11. Chapter 11

Ch.11  
AU Note: I’m really hoping that I goat cross the two different conversations that are going on between Arya and Bran. I’m really hoping you see it.   
“You said that one of us wouldn’t come out of this war alive,” Arya said, avoiding her brother’s eyes. She always did that. She could never look at her brother for too long. They called him Bran the Broken because he would never walk again, but Arya had never thought that it was her brother’s fall that caused him to break. No. Ever since she had come back to Winterfell and had seen his dull, old eyes she had known. A fall from a tower had not separated her from her brother but a man in a tree.   
“I did say that, yes,” Bran said.  
“How do you know? I mean, being the Three-Eyed Raven...you don’t see into the future?”  
“No. Just the past.”  
Arya finally looked up at him, hopeful, “So, you don’t know. You have no way of knowing.”  
Bran shook his head, his eyes going to the window behind her head, “I know. I know that one of us will die the same that I know the stars are bright and the grass is green. The same way I know you’ll have a scar from your attack.” He leaned forward, “Don’t you feel it?”  
“Feel what?” Arya asked, peering over to Desso, who rested easy.  
“The order of things. When you stepped off the boat onto Westerosi land, you brought with you a whole new world that we had no idea was there. You brought new cultures, new people, new weapons.”  
“What are you saying?”   
Bran continued to peer out the window, “I’m saying that this war is bringing changes that we do not yet know. It will either tear us apart or bring us together, but make no mistake. This island saw the birth of a new era when you stepped off of your ship. These new eras come with a price.”  
“And this price means that a Stark will die.”  
“Valar Morghulis.”  
“Not today.” Arya sat up further in bed, her mind made up, her stubborn determination coming out as she thought of the small man that had wheeled Bran into her room, “Not today.”  
Bran looked at his older sister, his dull eyes taking her in. Taking all of her in. Arya turned back to watch Desso again. Arya preferred not to think about what her brother would find if he looked too deep.  
Would he see the destruction? Would he see the death? Would he see what she had done to get here or what she had done in the name of the Bend or what she had done for Adam?  
An old scar in the shape of Bravoos pricking under her skin along with the newly-undercovered wounds of the death and destruction she had caused in her younger years. Adam had helped her undercover them, had helped her see where the thin line between vengeance and justice sat, had helped put her back together when she realized where those wounds had come from. Now, Adam was gone. And that was her fault too.  
“You’ve lived a thousand lives.” Arya’s eyes popped up to his and he nodded, “That day in Winterfell I knew what you had done to get there and you were so scared. You were so scared that we would turn you away. That you would tell us and we would be disgusted.”  
Arya nodded, “Yes. I was so scared.”  
“You were so young. You had the world torn out under your feet, had everything you were taken from you. Everyone who could have taken care of you was just...gone. Any security, any safety was just completely gone from your life.”  
“Why are you saying this?” He was scaring her, not a lot, just a little, but the look in his eyes was like he was looking into a fire. His eyes burned with something Arya could not name. It was not fury. It was not anger, but a type of scornful acceptance of Arya’s past and the way she was treated. It took Arya a while to notice that it wasn’t her that she scorned, but himself. He hated that he was not there to help her, hated that she was alone, always so bloody alone.  
“Because you never saw the people who cared about you. They were all gone, but I think you forgot that they never stopped caring about you. Every year on your birthday while you were in the West, Sansa and I would make a trip up to the Riverlands. We would stay at Hot Pie’s inn and remember the time when you decided to come back to us. We never forgot you. And there was nothing to forgive. We just wanted you back safe.”  
“I left you when you needed me the most.” Arya shook her head, cursing herself for how she had treated them. She had thought, constantly, about how she had left Gendry, about how she had sailed away with not even as much as a goodbye, but she had not thought of her siblings. She had only told Sansa that she was leaving when she had casually told Jon. She had left her sister as she sailed away from White Harbor and had not looked back to watch the redhead still standing on the pier disappear behind the ocean.   
Maybe Tyrion, not matter how bluntly he had said it, was right.   
“You left when you needed to the most.” Bran said evenly, “Even when we were mad, even when we wanted to plead with you to come back, we knew that. And now you’re back and the first thing that happens to you is that you almost die. Sansa and I both had to watch Gendry carry your body to the castle and we both sat outside that door all night. You know that, don’t you?”  
Arya refused to look at her brother, but she nodded either way sending tears streaming down her face.  
“You forgot what it was like to have a pack, but now that you’ve found one of your own, I expect you understand what that means again.”  
“Yes,” Arya said, her blue-grey eyes snapping up to his, determination filling her face, “It means that you would do anything for them.”  
Bran nodded, “Yes, so you know how Sansa and I feel. You know that we will do anything to keep you safe.”  
“I know,” Arya said, “I know now.”  
(*&*)  
“Arya.”  
It was Desso’s first word when he woke up and immediately she was there. She slipped from her bed and crawled into his, although the movement sent pain throughout her body. Arya folded him into her arms and breathed a sigh of relief.  
“Are you okay?” Desso asked.  
“You know exactly how I am.”  
His hand went up and down her back as they both breathed the other in, “Love, what’s wrong? What can I do?”  
Arya released him, looking into his eyes as she shook her head, “There’s nothing you can do.”  
“It’s okay, love. Just tell me.”  
“Nymeria is back,” Arya said, changing the subject.  
“Your wolf? I thought you said she had her own pack.”  
Arya shrugged, “I guess she wants to join ours now. Menden’s trying to give her a bath now.”  
Desso laughed, wincing slightly in pain, “Good, maybe she’ll decide to eat him.”  
Arya’s smile disappeared as her hand swept over Desso’s cheek, “I’m getting married.”  
Desso stared at her before sighing. “I wish you wouldn’t.”  
“Me too.”  
“Arya,” a voice called as the door opened. Gendry pushed a wheelchair into the room before smiling at her. He did not seem to care that she was pressed up against Desso in his bed. No, he looked too happy to do that.  
“Jon is here,” he said, the smile growing bigger.  
Arya smiled back at him, “Jon? So soon?”  
Gendry shrugged, “You all have been out for a long time. He made his way to White Harbor with his men and now here he is. I thought you might want to see him. And to get out of this room.”  
Arya’s smile faltered, “I can’t leave Desso.”  
“Yes, she can.” Desso said, “I actually forbid her from staying here.”  
Arya grew irate, “I’m not leaving you when you’re injured. I won’t.”  
“That’s your favorite brother,” Desso said, grabbing her hand, “And I’m not going anywhere, love. I’ll be perfectly fine.”  
Lord Baratheon looked at the two of them, “I have two of my personal guards stationed outside of the door and a nurse is with them. He’ll be well in hand until you get back, Arry.”  
Desso smiled, “See? It’s an hour away at most. Go.”  
Gendry helped Arya slip into the wheelchair, although he was visibly shocked that she did not complain about the arrangement, and he wheeled her out of the room.  
“I’ll be back soon,” Arya said over her shoulder before Desso disappeared out of sight as a guard shut the door.  
“I know how much you don’t like it,” Gendry said, “but he is in good hands.”  
“I know.”  
“I would not have ordered people to guard him unless I was absolutely sure he was taken care of.”  
“I know.”  
“Then why are you so tense?” he asked.   
Arya was silent for a while before she turned in her seat to look up at him, “Have you told anyone about us? About what happened before the battle?”  
“No, of course not.”  
“Do people know that we have history together?”  
“I told your siblings our stories. Even went to Winterfell to tell Sansa. But no one else.”  
Arya nodded, turning back around to face where they were going, but the chair suddenly stopped. Gendry walked around it and bent down, talking her hands in his, “What’s all this about, Arry?”  
She looked at him, her lips pulling tightly together, “I’m getting married.”  
Gendry’s eyes widened. Even though he had not been a lord as long as other people, he still knew what it meant. He knew that this would be the next thing to tear her away from him. He thought back to his own betrothed and how much time she got to be herself now, instead of the future Lady Baratheon. He thought of all the times the other order had talked about locking their wives away. How many times he had seen women suffer at the hands of the one person who was supposed to protect them no matter what. He knew that Arya's husband would not enjoy her keeping the company of the man people claimed took her maidenhood and knew that she would not be able to visit him or to talk to him. He would never see her again after her husband whisked her away.  
“To whom?” Gendry sputtered.  
“I don’t know.”  
“When?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“What does this mean for us?” Gendry asked.  
Arya took one of her hands back and held his face in it. Her voice broke, “I don’t know.”  
Gendry sat on his haunches, “I just got you back.”  
“I know.”  
“I just got you back.”


End file.
